The Curse
The priest's gaze hardens, his voice lowering ominously.
Not losing the demeanor of a priest he didn't have, he did better at gaining the demeanor of an addict.
That explained a lot to the ears that listened
A curse.
The priests were ruthless, even more to themselves and even more to those who harmed them, and the list could go on, but now in an optimistic direction.
"The Curse speaks of treachery. A soul unjustly taken... the mark does not lie. If you withhold information, you will face the light's judgment."
Garrik shifted uncomfortably but says nothing more.
Ilvara stepped in when things were not progressing amicably anymore
"Enough. This isn't a trial, Priest. If you've got evidence, present it. Otherwise, we're done here."
"We are not done until the truth is revealed. And we will find it... with or without your approval." The priest said coldly